


Blood

by exposeyou



Category: Lost
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exposeyou/pseuds/exposeyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for Zetaori, for the prompt 'Boone/Jack: blood'.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Zetaori, for the prompt 'Boone/Jack: blood'.

Blood. That's what it was between him and Shannon. They weren't blood-related, no, but it was their mutual jealousy, their anger at each other, the wordless blame she threw at him with bloody looks, this vicious, fierce, visceral feeling he got when he looked at her, and he never knew if it was love or rage and if he would kiss her or kill her until the moment that he did it.

And it was blood with him and Jack, too, but it was different. Very different. Blood rose in his cheeks when, amid the carnage of the crash, he saw how handsome he looked. He blushed like a schoolboy, and it burned. It burned too, when Jack told him that he did CPR wrong. He wanted to prove himself, wanted to show his worth, that he was a man, not a child, and that he could handle the blood and the pain and the panic around them and be useful.

He watched Jack wash blood off of his hands and got hard. It was the way his hands were strong, masculine, more the hands of a labourer than a surgeon. It was the fact that he had seen how he could perform such delicate, vital tasks with them, save lives, literally stitch people back together. it was that no matter how strong those hands looked, as he rinsed the blood off them they were shaking.

It was blood, the way they rarely spoke, the way things between them existed in Boone's head, he didn't need to tell Jack that he wanted those hands on him, that he admired his calmness, that there was nothing wrong with being scared.

When they fucked, silently, in the forest, Boone bit his own lip as he came, and tasted blood.

When Jack couldn't even look at him for weeks afterwards, he tasted blood again.

He thought...He didn't know what he had thought. That Jack was older, that he could teach him things. How to be a man, how not to be scared, how to be useful and not just get in the way.

Instead they had let blood get the better of them and given into it, and after those few minutes of rutting on the floor, blood pounding in their ears, there had been nothing left.


End file.
